Isabel thought it over, and then answered. “Like a crocodile, I think.”
Smirking, Zach returned his attention to the girl. “Unctuous?”
“What-uous?” Isabel struggled to wrap her mouth around the strange word.
“It means he obviously wants something from you, chiquita,” he said.
Isabel beamed with agreement. “That’s it! Ut-uous.”
“Unc-tu-ous.” Zach enunciated every syllable with care.
“Unctuous.” Satisfied, Isabel whipped around to face her mother. “Mama, I’m full. Can I please be excused?”
“You barely touched your food,” Theresa said with a sigh. However, her tone conveyed consent. Isabel slipped from her chair.
“Wash your hands!” Theresa called after her daughter. The child disappeared from the kitchen, dark hair bouncing, without making reply.
Theresa inspected Isabel’s plate. “At least she ate her meat.”
“She’s a growing pup,” he said with the right inflection to convey his amusement. “Be glad. Growing up, one of my cousins declared herself a vegetarian when she turned ten.”
Theresa laughed and her eyes searched his face, maybe trying to decide if he were joking. “Oh no, that must have been very aggravating for her parents.”
“Laura’s mother and father despaired of her becoming a proper wolf.” Zach chuckled at his recollection of the childhood memory. “However, it was a different matter for her brother, Charles, and I. We derived a great deal of satisfaction in teasing her that she’d wind up being an herbivore. Perhaps a shifter cow or a wererabbit. Her nickname became Bunny—behind our parents’ backs, of course.”
“Oh, no!” Theresa groaned and laughed so hard she held her sides. Tears shone bright in her eyes. “You’re terrible. That poor girl!”
“Don’t feel too sorry for her,” Zach said with a grin. He made a show of rubbing his jaw. “She hit like a boy.”
Still laughing, Theresa reached out and caught his hand. He held fast to her fingers, pleased that humor had eradicated the discomfort between them. Comedy was an old standby he used to put her at ease. She seemed relaxed again, but he concealed his tension. With pack politics being what they were, he needed to breech Theresa’s defenses and gain her complete trust.
“What happened to her?” Theresa asked.
With an effort, he focused his distracted thoughts. “To who?”
Her brow rose. “To Laura. Who else?”
“Oh.” He wiped his mouth with his napkin, then stacked his silverware on his plate. “She grew up to be a wolf shifter after all. She attended Oxford, graduated at the top of her class, and became a journalist.”
“Is she still a vegetarian?”
He chuckled. “No, she got over that bit of silliness.”
Her grip tightened on his hand and she gazed at him with wide eyes. Her skin radiated heat and the alluring perfume of her pheromones flooded his nostrils. It was almost more than he could stand. His pent up sexual tension had him ready to howl at the moon. Screw a civilized courtship.
“Zach, about what I said to Isabel,” Theresa said in a voice riddled with pain. “What you overheard—I never meant to imply that you’re unattractive.”
A quick grin crossed his face, and he bit back a laugh. So, she thought his ego was that fragile, eh? Ever the ham, he adopted an expression of patent relief. “Thank goodness for that. I was starting to feel like an ugly duckling.”
Her cheeks reddened. “I-I…I just don’t want Isabel getting her hopes up or getting the notion that something might happen…”
Zach surged to his feet. He used their joined hands to pull Theresa upright and toward him. He leaned across the small table. Just before their lips met, he felt the gasp of her breath, and then the heat of her skin. He captured her mouth in a kiss. She yielded and opened to him, and his tongue feathered across her upper lip before encountering the smoothness of her front teeth.
Zach settled both of his hands onto Theresa’s shoulders, caressing the smooth bare skin with a circular motion. His sensitive hearing tracked the racing beat of her heart and the accelerated rate of her breathing. He scented perspiration and arousal, and he ached to taste more than just her delicious mouth. He wanted to peel the neckline of her sundress down to expose her full breasts to his heated gaze. He imagined the silk of her thighs and the honeyed flesh between her legs, swollen and sensitive and ready for him.
He kept the pressure of his mouth upon hers light, seductive rather than assertive, because he had to be careful not to frighten her. Under the coaxing stroke of his tongue, her lips parted wider, welcoming his advances, and her tongue stroked his lips and then his teeth with increasing confidence. She tasted smoky and spicy, like peppercorns and paprika, not as he had imagined but so much better. Heavenly. She whimpered and then moaned, and her tongue met his with a bold thrust. Her small hands clung to his shirt, fingers knotted about the soft cotton.
“Mama! I want to watch a movie.”
Isabel’s voice from the other room hit Zach like a bucket of ice water. He released Theresa and moved back. They stared at each other. Her eyes were huge and her skin flushed. Her tongue crept out to wet her swollen lips, which moved as if to speak, until his name emerged as a strangled plea. “Zach?”
Zach looked straight into her eyes, and he saw her fear, uncertainty, and desire. “Don’t count me out so easily, love.”
“I-I don’t understand…”
“Mama!”
“Just a minute, Isabel. You need to be patient.” Theresa cast an irritated glance in the direction of her demanding daughter in the other room.
“We can talk later, love. After Isabel’s gone to bed.” He glanced down at the table, still cluttered with dirty dishes, and picked up his plate. “Now, let’s get this mess cleaned up, shall we?”
“Great idea!” Theresa said with a little too much enthusiasm. She wore a shy smile and a healthy blush and never looked straight at him. She seized the opportunity he provided and started to stack dishes. Zach observed her retreat with a touch of amusement but made no move to follow. The worst thing he could do would be to crowd her.
“Are we watching that animated movie about wolves?” Hands full, he rounded the table for the sink.
“I’m afraid it’s a bit of a chick flick. It’s a wolf love story.”
Zach chuckled. “What’s not to love about wolves?”
Chapter Four
“Are you okay, pet?” Zach asked, and his voice smirked.
Smug bastard.
“I’m fine,” Theresa said, sounding breathy and uncertain thanks to the tension singing through her body. Despite her best efforts to enjoy the movie, the muscles in her shoulders and back formed painful knots.
The loveseat in the family room wasn’t big enough to accommodate two adults and a child, so they sat with Isabel wedged between them while the children’s movie played.
Zach chuckled, which made her bad temper worse. Her feet ached from the long day at work, and her arousal agitated her restlessness. The man’s insufferable smugness only aggravated matters since he’d stolen that kiss in the kitchen.
Zach’s long arm stretched across the back of the couch in a move as old as movie theaters and, by accident or design, his hand brushed the nape of her neck.
The first time it happened, she almost jumped out of her skin. A lengthy delay ensued before he came around for a second pass, and she managed to convince herself that it must’ve been an accident. Then, there it was again, the flirtatious stroke of his finger against her nape. This time she managed not to squirm and he rewarded her with a firmer touch.
His fingers tested the tension in her neck, located the knot beside her spine, and dug in harder. The massage hurt so good that a strangled moan escaped her and it was only blind luck that it coincided with a noisy action sequence. Thankfully, Isabel didn’t notice.
The longer he kept at her sore muscles, the harder it became to stay still. His touch stirred erotic urge
s that left her wet and aching with intense longing. She imagined things that they couldn’t hope to act on while Isabel sat between them. At the same time, she felt so far out of her comfort zone, it wasn’t even funny. Zach seemed determined to upend their familiar dynamic, and she had no idea how to react. It left her as jumpy as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs.
When the credits rolled on the animated movie, Theresa bounded out of her seat with an explosive release of breath. The ninety-minute animation officially qualified as the longest movie of her entire life.
With unconstrained glee, she cried, “Bedtime!”
“Mama…I don’t want to go to bed. I’m not tired.”
“Isabel, you have school tomorrow. I don’t want to hear it.” To emphasize her point, Theresa seized the remote and turned off the television.
True to form, Isabel offered the obligatory protests, weaving a list of demands ranging from a glass of water and a story to multiple kisses goodnight. A half hour later, Theresa eased out of her daughter’s bedroom and shut the door behind her. She heaved an exhausted sigh and headed downstairs.
In the kitchen, Zach had opened the bottle of red wine. Without a word, he offered her a glass, which she accepted with an uneasy smile.
“Thank you,” she said, regarding him nervously. She relaxed a little when he reached for a chair, spinning and straddling it.
“You’re welcome. Is the rascal in bed?”
Theresa chose a seat so they were facing one another. “Teeth brushed, story read, final glass of water drunk, forehead kissed, and tucked in.”
“Kids are a lot of work.” Zach chuckled, sounding amused rather than put off, but then he knew how much of her time and energy went into raising Isabel. Still, to a bachelor, it must seem overwhelming.
The thought depressed her because she wanted to envision a future where Zach became Isabel’s father. She longed for the stability of a loving relationship with a husband who respected and cherished her. She wanted Isabel to grow up in a home with a real family instead of being the solitary child of a single mother.
“It probably doesn’t help that you were an only child,” Theresa said, and the corners of her mouth turned down in an unhappy curve.
“Growing up, I always wanted brothers and sisters,” Zach said. “But mom had trouble conceiving. She went through three miscarriages before they had me.”
Theresa blinked. The admission caught her by surprise. Zach guarded his privacy and seldom spoke of intimate personal matters. She knew that his mother still lived in England, but his father had been killed in an accident two years before.
“Both of your parents were shifters, right?” Theresa asked.
“Yes. At least I always knew that I’d be one also when I hit adolescence.”
When both parents were werewolves, a child had the security of knowing that they’d grow up to be a shifter. However, when one parent was wolf or human, there were no guarantees. Theresa envied the certainty Zach had enjoyed throughout his childhood. Her father had been a werewolf and her mother was human. She hadn’t known she would inherent her father’s gifts until she’d turned twelve and experienced the change for the first time.
“I was the opposite,” she said a wry smile. “Mom and Dad didn’t have any trouble conceiving and they wanted a large family. There are six of us. The house was always crowded and there was never enough of anything to go around. And yet I was the only one who grew up to become a shifter.”
Of course, Zach already knew all about her family. He’d met her mother and most of her siblings. Hunters had murdered her father many years before.
“All werewolves face the same dilemma.” Zach swirled his wine and contemplated the deep red hue of the liquid. “Mate with a human or a wolf and chance having only normal offspring. Mate with another shifter and risk no children at all.”
“For men that’s true.” Her tone came out far sharper than intended.
Zach’s brow rose.
“Spreading ‘wild oats’ is only an option for males,” Theresa said, struggling to cool her tone. “Not females.”
“Right, my apologies, that was an asinine thing to say.” Zach’s enunciation grew clipped, even more British than usual. When angered or frustrated, the man always sounded so damn civilized.
“It’s okay,” Theresa said. “I’m sorry I snapped at you. You’re only saying what’s true, and if it weren’t for promiscuous males siring children, our kind would have long since gone extinct.”
“That doesn’t make it right.” Zach’s outrage was to his credit. While dominant males were renowned for being protective mates and fathers, they were also notorious for sleeping around.
“It is what it is.” Her shoulders rose and fell in a shrug. “Besides, I’m not one to talk. At least I’m lucky enough to be able to have children.”
She finished her wine. Zach lifted the bottle, offering her more, but Theresa held up her hand to refuse. “No, thank you. One is more than enough.”
Zach poured more wine into his glass. His serious expression caused her to remain still. She sensed they were entering dangerous territory, and once again she wondered at the sudden change in his behavior toward her.
“Theresa, did you have Isabel right out of high school?”
She drew in a sharp breath. He’d never before asked direct questions about her past. She hesitated before replying, but he deserved an answer. He had opened the door when he’d spoken about his family and growing up. Still, her voice sounded strangled to her own ears.
“Yes, I was a month pregnant at graduation…”
He cocked his head. “Do you regret Isabel?”
Theresa choked up and tears filled her dark eyes. “Oh, no, I love Isabel. She’s my whole world. Don’t get me wrong. It’s just—I do have regrets. I had a 4.0 GPA and a full scholarship to the University of Las Vegas. I wanted to be a nurse.”
“Why didn’t you?”
Theresa shook her head. She had nothing but excuses. “I had a baby to take care of.”
“Your mother and both of your sisters live here in the area. I can’t believe your family wouldn’t have helped.”
Theresa flushed deep red. The humiliation was too much. She wanted to crawl away rather than endure his censure. She decided to own up to the truth rather than have Zach pry it out of her. “Antonio forbade it,” she said, “and Bryce, our Alpha at the time, backed him up.”
“Fuckin’ell!” Zach shot to his feet, hands clenched to fists. The action shoved his chair against the wall. “That soddin’ bastard!”
Theresa cringed. She also rose to her feet. “He was dominant to me at the time. I had to obey.”
Zach’s gaze gentled. “I wasn’t blaming you, Theresa.”
“Zach, I was the pack’s Omega then.”
Zach tipped his head, but even so, he towered over her. “I wasn’t blaming you, love. The last thing I want is you afraid of me.”
“I’m not afraid of you.” She stared at his chest, unable to look up and meet his eyes.
“You’re shaking.” His hands brushed her shoulders and she calmed beneath his touch.
His support gave her the courage necessary to continue. She sucked down a deep breath. “I want to explain how Antonio and I came to be divorced, but I can’t do that without talking about the past. I know it will make you angry when I tell you…”
Zach stilled and his breathing grew shallow. “Go on. You can tell me anything.”
She licked her lips to moisten them. Her throat ached from dryness and constriction. Her emotions were too intense. “Promise me you won’t get angry.”
He hesitated and shook his head. “I can’t promise not to become angry, Theresa. I don’t have the ability to turn my emotions on and off…”
“No, I understand that,” she said. “And I don’t expect you to.”
“What then?” he asked. “Are you afraid of me? Of how I will react?”
She gasped. “Oh, Zach, no! Never. I’m not afraid for
myself or Isabel.”
“Good.”
“But that’s not to say that I’m not scared of what you might do.”
His eyes narrowed and he gazed at her as if trying to discern her meaning. “Go ahead and say what you need to say, love. We’ll have to sort the consequences out afterward.”
She bit her lower lip. She knew it was better that he not make promises that he couldn’t keep, but still, his potential reaction worried her. “Normally, our kind doesn’t divorce because we mate for life.”
Zach tilted his chin to indicate his agreement. “I admit, I’ve wondered what happened to your mate bond with Tony.”
She took a breath and blurted out the terrible truth. “Zach, I was able to divorce Tony because he was never my mate. He’s the father of my child, but I never chose him to be my lifemate. I only married him because I was pregnant…”
“I see.” The words were clipped. His tone indicated that he did not understand at all.
She blinked away tears and only Zach’s quiet patience permitted her to continue. “I was seventeen when I got pregnant. Tony was a year older and a senior. He worked as a mechanic at his father’s garage and was a linebacker on the varsity football team.”
Zach tilted his head, casting his features into shadows that emphasized his sharp cheekbones. Those blue eyes saw too much, commanded that she not look away, and gave her the courage to continue. “Go on,” he said.
“I was overwhelmed when Tony asked me to prom. At the time, I was the pack’s Omega. I don’t think I could have refused even if…”
The Omega was the lowest ranked member of any werewolf pack, often the weakest and youngest member, sometimes the eldest and most infirm. Throughout a wolf’s life, rank rose and fell based on any number of factors, including one’s size, strength, sex, cunning, combat ability, heritage, and even choice of mate. Zach, the son of two dominant wolves, couldn’t hope to understand what it meant to be powerless.
“Did you want to?” Zach’s voice contained the severity of polished steel, harsh and unforgiving. His wolf roiled with constrained aggression. He scared her when he allowed so much of his beast to be seen.
The Mating Game Page 5
